


Snippets of Shadow

by moomoogoat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-09 01:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17992616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moomoogoat/pseuds/moomoogoat
Summary: A collection of one-shots, most of them dark in nature.





	1. Devotion

He held me, a sobbing child with red hair strewn across my face, snakeskin in my hair. I clung to him as he wiped away my tears. That day in the chamber I became his.

The path he walked was not easy, not a path anyone would wish to walk. The innocent boy who saved me slowly descended his way downwards, as darkness overtook him. I was by his side at every turn, his confidant. He loved me, in his own way. I was the one he turned to, the one who he spilled his heart to. It only made me love him more. 

In his secrets, in his words I saw the forces at work. The strain, the expectations, the responsibility. All of it were far too much. I tried to lighten his load, to be his rock. I did my best, I was all that I could be. It was not enough, as the darkness he faced slowly began to consume him.

I begged, pleaded for him to see what he was becoming, to turn from the shadows. But the world around him raged, the world around him kept taking from him. The path continued downwards. I was the only one who saw, the only one who knew what was happening to him. It was at this point I came to a realization: no matter what he was mine, no matter the cost, no matter what he became. 

Lord Voldemort was defeated. Harry Potter had prevailed. Even as we triumphed I held him. Held him like a lifeline, while he clutched me to his chest and cried. Cried for a loss of innocence, cried for those that had died, cried for what he had become. In victory, things were not finished. People spoke about the Dark Lord’s demise, while they failed to realize the next one was holding me, even as they rejoiced. 

He was evil. There was no doubt, but I could not blame him; his path had led him here, it was not his choice. He was far from innocent, but yet I could not help but see the boy who held me, the boy who saved me every time I looked at him. For whatever he had become, I loved him still. That would not change, regardless of what he became and what he did. Devotion to my saviour, devotion to a monster.


	2. Family

It is no secret that we are disgraced and reviled. The Malfoy name was once revered, the wealth and power is commanded were unparalleled. And then he came. My father Abraxas saw his power, saw the potential he had and bound himself to him. I like my father, followed him. Voldemort.

As he rose to prominence, the Wizarding World was brought to his knees. The Malfoys would benefit, would gain much. And then the unthinkable happened, he was defeated. Not by Albus Dumbledore, not by Flamel or by Grindelwald. But by a child. How could we have foreseen this?

My son, my wife. All that I have done was for you. After his fall, I did all that I could to preserve what we had. Our name was tarnished, but not gone. Through many bribes and hard work I have restored us to the upper echelons of society. I have made the Malfoy name as good as gold and it was for you I have done so.

The mark has darkened. I am fearful. Fearful that all I had done is in vain, for he is returning. His power cannot be denied, his call cannot be ignored. I am far from a coward, but I am terrified for what this means. Draco, I know I have not been an ideal father. Narcissa.. I only wish that you see what I have done, what I am doing and see that it was all for our family. 

I don the familiar mask and robes and join him. It is the only choice, the only decision and it is the wrong one. If there was another option, I would leap at it. His vengeance would be terrible and swift and the Malfoys would be no more. So I have done the only thing I can; I fall to my knees and beg for mercy. He knows why I have returned, but it matters not as long as I am of use to him.

My son. He has took him, he has branded him. I have tried, have done what I could, all in vain. Our future, our fate is tied to him. The Malfoys rise as the Dark Lord begins to take over Britain. At this moment I should be elated, be overjoyed at our fate and the prominence we have gained. I have not forgotten what it cost us when he was defeated the first time, nor do I believe that a second time is impossible. 

He fell. The Dark Lord is defeated. The mark is gone. I can only hold my son, hold my wife and pray that justice, that the judgement we greatly deserve is merciful. The Great Hall is filled with lamentations, filled with the bodies of the defenders. We are given looks, looks that are filled with hate. For whatever it may have cost us, whatever this new society may do to the Malfoys, I have my family.

It is at this moment that I realize whatever evil I have done, whatever vices I indulged upon were worth it. Andromeda cries for her child, and I rejoice that I do not cry for mine. Whatever is necessary I was willing to do, and in my embrace my family resides. Most are not that lucky. Your convictions, your courage is admirable, but your families are gone. The Malfoy name may have been sacrificed, but the Malfoys live on.


	3. It Was Better

It was better. Better to know you, better to love you, even if I was to lose you. Some would wish that they would never have experienced what we had, as the loss would be too great. I knew better. We had something I cannot describe, but I would not be the same without it.

As to the loss I feel? That is not to be underestimated, but those memories? I would not trade them for anything. And our child… Harry if you are out there know that I love you still. You always worried so much, about my wellbeing, about leaving me. You did what was required of you, I would not hold that against you.

They look upon me with pity, poor Ginny Weasley and her child. But I loved you. I had shared my love with you and you had returned it. That is not something to be pitied, but to be joyful about. The loss was great, the joy was greater. Even as you are missing little James will know that his father was a great man. A great man that gave of himself, gave of himself costing him everything.

There are moments of weakness where I am angry, where I wish things never happened as they did. But then I see little James and I know I am thankful. You gave yourself up, and in doing so you created a better world for our child. How could I be angry? 

It was better to know and love you. I do not regret it for a minute. It was better.


	4. My Fist, Your Mouth, Her Scars

You were by my side, throughout all the darkness, a friend to a lonely orphan. Ron you were my best mate and for that I thank you, thank you for the debt I cannot hope to repay you. 

But what you did to Hermione? Ten years of marriage, ten years of abuse. Ten years where I was gone and your deeds went unchecked. I keep trying to blame someone; Voldemort, you, myself. Each time I go through it, I place the blame at your feet and realize I’m being unfair.

Unfair to you, but also unfair to her. She didn’t deserve any of it. But yet you were a child, like myself. You stood by my side, stood tall in the face of darkness a young boy should never have to face. The scars that were left on me were also imprinted onto you. I cannot find fault with you Ron Weasley, your actions vile, but you are not to blame.

We had been through hell. How could I hold it against you? What I went through, what we went through was not something I would wish upon my worst enemy. The fact that we survived was a miracle, it was no small coincidence, that in surviving we had lost ourselves.

I had hidden from the world these past ten years, ten years where I had fought to remain myself, but also to forget the events. In that time, my thoughts did not stray to you. You had snapped, snapped under the weight of our actions and of a war fought. Hermione had lost all semblance of self and I blame you. I blame you for what she has become, for the way you treated our friend. 

In this you forget Ron that we prevailed. We won. For whatever darkness there was it was defeated. But yet even now, its effects linger, ruining relationships and nightmares persist. I have come to terms with myself. I hope you can do the same. She deserves better, she always had. 

You have always been a friend to me, and I wouldn’t give that up for the world. I hope you can forgive an old friend, while I cannot forgive what you have done.


	5. Victory

Remus. Tonks. Ginny. Ron. Hermione. The battle of Hogwarts was won. They fell. Tell me what is victory? This does not feel like it. This feels like death, this feels like loss. Tell me what have we gained? What did their sacrifice gain us?

Some would say freedom. Some would say a chance to start over. Fools. Optimism and lies, spoken by those who had hid from the darkness, those who had not lost what I had lost. Why was I left here? Because I was the ‘Chosen One’?

Many turned to me for guidance, for words of wisdom. I was a hero. Why was I a hero? Because I lived and they were dead? Did Remus not matter? Why not bestow honours upon him? He stood for what was right. He died for it. Yet he was just another name on a list.

The most eligible bachelor in Britain they call me. Debating on which witch I will pursue, who will woo me. I should be insulted, I should be angry. But I cannot bring myself to care. Let them muse, let them waste their time in speculation. Ginny fell. 

A year later wizarding society has moved on. How can you? The war is won I am told, we had victory. We had victory? Victory over what? Victory that cost us, victory that took those that were close to us. How can that be victory? Maybe it is something I don’t understand, something I don’t grasp about this notion of victory.

It is only when I visit his portrait do I understand. Only when we claim victory do we realize what we have lost. Victory is loss, victory is sacrifice, victory is painful. Why call it Victory then? I realize that victory is not forgetting them, but living in a way to honour their memory. The loss remains. The pain remains. But along with pain and loss, hope also remains. That’s something worth holding onto.


	6. Digging for What Was Lost

The cold air of December hit him in a wave, taking his focus off the frozen patch of dirt in front of him. Warming charms, even one from the Elder Wand could not keep the freezing temperatures from affecting him. Wrapping his cloak around him tighter, he picked the shovel back up and jabbed it into the frozen ground. The grating sound of metal hitting frozen dirt was all that was heard, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

Another five minutes later the hole had been widened, enough so that you could lay down on the ground and be level with the surrounding earth. Leaning on his spade, his mind wandered to how he got here. Not the physical graveyard, but rather to this point in his life. Perhaps it was fate mocking him, taking whatever happiness he had, even if it was for a short time.

His parents, people he had heard so much about, and yet experienced nothing from them that he could remember. His fingers absentmindedly traced over his scar. Their sacrifice was all he had, and today he wasn’t sure whether to thank or curse them. They loved him enough to give their lives, but was it worth it? 

Sometimes he wasn’t so sure. 11 years with the Dursley’s, that was hardly living. Another seven at Hogwarts, escaping Death’s clutches narrowly almost every year. Even now in the past few weeks, after he had completed the task of fate he felt empty. His fate was to defeat the Dark Lord and he had, what else was there. 

What was it all for? The one goal, the fixation of his entire education and purpose was to fight that one man. Fate had decreed one must fall at the hand of the other. And so it had been, except Harry didn’t feel like he had anything left. The fame, the admiration, the love of the common people may enthuse others, but to him it was nothing.

He picked up the shovel and began to deepen the rectangular indentation in the frozen earth. His hands repeated the same process over and over while his mind went to his few moments of happiness. Ginny, oh how he wished she was here. The one bright spot, the anchor that made fighting the Dark Lord worth it was gone. The thought of being able to spend his future, a time where an insane megalomaniac would no longer bother them had kept him going. When she fell at the Battle of Hogwarts it all shattered.

Some would say that it was her death that caused their victory; he had heard Seamus and Dean discussing it in the common room after it was all finished. Perhaps they were right, his anger had led to a blood lust that could not be sated. Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov. All of them had fallen to his wand, and yet he could not be satisfied. Until he had met the Dark Lord in the Great Hall. 

All of his anger, all of his hate was released in a flurry of spells, a pure beam of power that not even Voldemort with all his mastery of the arcane could contend with. And then the lust for blood had subsided and victory had been proclaimed. Except it wasn’t victory, at least not for him. War has no victors, just survivors and whatever joy in triumph vanished as the dead were buried.

Standing in the now finished grave, he spared a glance towards the left eyes catching on the headstone next to him. Ginny Weasley. His grave expression turned into a smile, as his arm raised. The Elder Wand pointed at his temple emitted a green pulse and he fell backward, joining his lover in Death’s embrace. 


End file.
